


Dead is Dead

by Ceose



Category: Lethal Weapon (TV)
Genre: Canon Death, Depressing, Gen, Sad, look Riggs really needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 17:59:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9669863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceose/pseuds/Ceose
Summary: Riggs knows that at some point in time he'll have to let go of Miranda





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarkqueenKat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkqueenKat/gifts).



The thing is, okay, the thing is Riggs knows that at some point in time he'll have to let go of Miranda. It's not just the ring, which okay, watching the ring sink slowly down into the dark depths of the ocean felt like nothing. It felt like nothing; because his lungs were already straining, his hands were already bloody, his head was already pounding, and his vision was black on the sides of being so close to passing out. All of these are things he'll never tell anyone. Maybe the dog, maybe the bottle in his hand, maybe he'll tell Miranda in a dream.

So yeah. At some point in the future he'll have to let her go. Let her memory fade into a place of slight hurt but mostly vague feelings of love and affection and what ifs. He'll pull her picture off the mantle on what would have been their 10 year, their 15th year, their 20th, their 50th, and he'll wonder. Wonder what she would have looked like, what their kids would have looked like. This is his life plan now that she was ripped out of life so unfairly. He's not planning on moving on. There's no thoughts in him about finding someone else to spend the rest of his life with. Honestly, his plan now is to go to work and maybe come home later, but he's not that worried about it. He doesn't really care if he makes it back at night. It's not like there's anything there for him. An empty fridge, an empty bed, an empty everything and it's all sitting on the beach that she had loved and he had loved for her.

He know too, he knows that if she were around she'd be kicking his ass up one part of the beach to the other because the last thing she'd want to see would be Martin Riggs sitting on the steps of a travel trailer drinking the cheapest beer he could buy the most of on a Saturday night. Especially on a night where the moon has the beach lit up like the sun, where the ocean is picture perfect, where there's no one nearby to stop him from playing the music loud like she would have loved. Riggs knows that if she had been the one left holding the pieces of the life they had she'd be so much better at it. Granted, she would have had a baby to be strong for, a little piece of him left behind so that she wasn't so alone. Plus her mother and father and a large family of aunts and uncles and cousins. Friends that missed her when she moved and missed her more when she died. Her funeral was so full of people and the majority of them were people he had never gotten to meet before she was gone. They had all the time in the world for introductions, until they didn't.

He tries though. He tries to move and make it better but it's hard to get past a ghost that you can't let go of. It's hard to stop seeing the void where she was because he spent a large chunk of his life getting over the void that someone had left him with. He's missing so many people that he cared for because they were snatched away for the one second he wasn't looking at them. The one second he wasn't making sure they were safe, that their six was protected. There's too many memories of holding someone together while you wait for the medic and even though he wasn't there when the truck hit her and she flew across the highway like the home run ball in the ninth inning he knows what becomes of a body hit with that force. He's caused a body to hit a force like that. There's nights, days, months, years he sits and feels like this was karma coming back around for him after all the things he's done. All the people he killed, and even if it was orders, killing is still killing. A head shot is still a head shot. Dead is still dead.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this, kind of, for Darkqueenkat because there needs to be more Lethal Weapon fic but this is really not what I wanted to write. She said to post it, so here it is. No beta, feel free to point out mistakes. It's pretty short, so you know, that's a plus? It's a little rough but it's late. And I'll stop making excuses now.


End file.
